Control
by DarkestAngellic
Summary: His lover is always a demanding fiend on nights of the full moon, but there are instances when the demands are different. And Sephiroth is more than willing to go along with them. (Rating to be safe)


**_Disclaimer: _****_I own nothing from FFVII, not the settings, not the characters, not the names. Nothing. I own absolutely nothing. It is all the property of the wonderful Square Enix._**

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He knew it was Chaos approaching before the growl of his name gave auditory confirmation. It was there in his _body_, the awareness of his WEAPON. Distance between them governed the volume of the Jenova cells within him.

Now that Chaos was near - within touching distance, almost - those cells were quiet. Quiet in a way impossible without Chaos' proximity. Not _muted_ but _silent_. He shifts in a twist of black leather and silver hair, surprised that his lover is out wandering when the full moon is -

Ah. Chaos had finally decided to take advantage of having a willing "outlet", then? Only a brief moment is spared to appreciate the silvery sheen to pale flesh - scarred torso surprisingly bare - before absinthe gaze clashes with burning onyx and demanding hands are shoving him backwards. The annoyed sound as leather tears beneath deadly claws is all but lost in the snarl rumbling from Chaos. Where from - be it throat or chest noise - Sephiroth cannot tell, and any attempt at doing so is promptly tossed aside when over six feet of wanting demon presses up against him, trapping him between hard wall and body of solid, taut muscle. Then lips are at his, hot and unyielding, sinful tongue soon following. They engage in a brief dance for dominance before he's granted entrance to warm mouth and sharp teeth.

The same teeth that viciously draw blood when he attempts to push the WEAPON back a pace. To take control, be as aggressively dominant as he likes and Chaos usually demands. But here… there's a difference to his lover in this lunar phase. Chaos doesn't seem to be demanding in his usual fashion at all… just what side of the demon is coming out to play tonight? Curious, he pushes forward again only to be shoved harder against the wall with enough force to crack the brickwork, hissing when sharp metal rends four threads of scarlet onto the portion of his chest left bare of jacket and belts. The growl accompanying is positively savage, and he grins against the mouth now bloodying his lips with quick, nipping bites from elongated canines. Very few there were who could bring the bright flare of pain to his senses, fewer who would dare try, even fewer he would allow to do so. But Chaos… he brought pain with the promise of simple pleasures later. For every bite there would be a kiss the following morning. For every scratch, a gentle sweep of fingers over sensitive skin. Every bruise to vanish before it could fully form, a massage to relax and soothe. For each trail of dried blood abandoned to sensation and the _need_ for release, a slow lapping of tender tongue to remove the threaded paths they made.

Another bite brings his attention fully back to the present and to the lack of jacket and pauldrons, the moist lines painted on heated flesh now that Chaos has deviated from his mouth.

"Chaos -"

"_Shut up_." And he'd be lying if he said that voice didn't go straight to his groin. Dark promise, savage predator - the same one to get loose whenever Chaos lost control over the deadly half wanting to end humanity. The added purr in those two small words was enough to stay any attempt at using the Protomateria to calm him. This _was_ still Chaos, still his lover - _not_ Minerva's mindless WEAPON - just… more unhinged than normal.

Fangs buried in his neck draw forward a snarl of his own, bucking sharply against the shorter male even as the pull on his blood flow begins. Gods, how long as it been since Chaos last fed from him? Weeks? Months? _Too long_.

Sephiroth arches and squirms, remembering how Chaos liked a bit of a struggle, deliberately moving so hips connect and there's a grind of damned pressure that isn't nearly enough for either of them, if the strained leather at the groin is anything to go by. Gloved fingers move with purpose, one finding leathery membrane and the other dragging down the line of a strong spine to the innocent stripe of scar tissue stamped horizontally across at the small of Chaos' back. He scrapes across it and the response is immediate, unchecked, punctuated with a surprisingly loud keen against his throat. Wings snap with enough force to propel Chaos backward, claws digging in to the bone as he clamps down, hauling Sephiroth with him before he's in motion, twisting and shoving and _still_ with fangs at pale flesh and sucking harshly at the spilling blood.

They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs and rolling, neither able to gain advantage and straddle of the other's hips for more than a few seconds at a time, hissing and snarling, bruises blooming from grips too tight and blood falling from powerful bites and strong teeth. They're not even fully unclothed yet.

But Chaos is feral these nights on the full moon, some more than others. It is these nights when Sephiroth will allow the demonic one some dominance, for Chaos wants all pleasures of the flesh - those from fighting included. And only Sephiroth is allowed to cause his lover any form of harm - he'd skin anyone else alive if they dared try.

Chaos was _his, _just as the bloody mess at his throat declared he was the WEAPON's.

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_**A/N: **__**Just a quick note to avoid confusion. In a previous fic Vincent gave Chaos the Protomateria, only for it to be destroyed. That story is not related to this one. In the Chaos/Sephiroth "verse", Vincent has given Chaos the Protomateria, and the WEAPON has given it to Sephiroth in a show of trust (which I might write about at a later date).**_


End file.
